Long Quietus Poems
Long Quietus Poems. Below are the most popular long Quietus by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quietus poems by poem length and keyword.
In a mire brewed
betwixt puddles of hell and mute dissent
a martyr wades -
weighed down by chains of shame and disdain
alas the thirsting self-absorbed swamp
distills and swills her stewed silence
and swallows the last embers
from her goblet of dreamer’s fire
pursed breaths are pickpocketed by the shallows
in a breathless vertical twist
an escapist is lost in the swirl of a chambered nautilus
distanced and deserted in the dance of descent
stillness belies the waterline’s greed
as a heroine’s salvage is suffocated -
the slick of self-appointed apathy anoints the surface
and a disquieted wind rises to bend the will of reeds
their flutes airing plainsong in forced supplication
yet carelessly cast away like spindrift from broken crests
while storm clouds blindfold wide-eyed skies
stifling any play of sun on water
Susan Ashley
May 1, 2020
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Spiral
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Doublethink belief origin
We pray ten times a day
Where lies pristinity virgin
Why do blue skies seem grey
Life flows in shallow grooves
Lips recite, nothing moves
Heart fits not, scriptures shoes
Marooned on a reef
Doublethink belief
~~~
Doublethink belief, a new script
We incarnate again
Rituals, with similar drift
Bound by another chain
We wish not to make fuss
But what’s in it for us
We’ve again missed the bus
Anoint a new chief
Doublethink belief
~~~
Doublethink belief, where’s the light
Are we but feeble form
Why eludes us, blissful delight
Seems suffering the norm
Aligning thought, word, deed
Step by step, desires weed
Touch of God, our soul’s need
Alleviate grief
Doublethink belief
02-December-2021
Quietus
Seated in yoga position
As cool instruments play
Driving negative vibration
While solemnly I pray
Yoga relaxes mind
Setting my cares behind
My best way to unwind
Closed eyes meastra
Seated in yoga
Dec. 11,2022 6.10pm
Longa in English means a musical note with a time value equal to two or three double whole notes: In modern notation, a longa is usually represented as semibreves tied across two measures.
I might change “in longa” to maestra in the future for a teacher who is always tired, lol.
Quietus
Created by” Unseeking Seeker,” consisting of one quatrain (syllable count 8-6-8-6 with a rhyme of abab ), one tercet (syllable count 6-6-6 with a rhyme scheme of ccc ), and one refrain with a rhyme scheme of (dd), made from a line of words from line one, how many words is your choice. The refrain is the title.
PS Syllable Counter
Syllables Per Line: 8 6 8 6 0 6 6 6 0 5 5
Total # Syllables: 56
Total # Lines: 11 (Including empty lines)
I received a letter from death,
Upon the hour.
"May the world pity you,
For your days are numbered."
Shallow are my waters I swim in,
I cannot pass on now.
My time is yet to come,
Please, I have so much more to live for.
Can I not salvage these years,
For they are what all I have left.
I am no more than a melancholic man,
Left for dead on a barren avenue.
Death locked me within this cage,
Of prosecution,
Of damnation —
And of plague writhing my bones!
May the world pity me as I cry out for help.
My heart will weep all the night long.
There seems to be no sympathetic heart
That will notice my forlorn sadness.
Does the world no longer hone them,
The empaths who made it bearable to
Live in a heartless world,
Such as this?
Death knocked at my door and entered,
Where I laid prepared.
Upon arrival, she kissed me on my lips.
Cold were they, yearning for her.
May the toll of purgatory be brief,
For I cannot endure this;
Ceremony of judgement and punishment.
Wherever my soul be guided to,
I ask death to walk alongside my new body.
Guide me wherever her throne resides,
But before I take my crown and ring as husband,
I kiss the cold lips of death once more.
I know that I am dying, I am fading fast,
my life is almost over, by tomorrow I will be dead;
and I find myself on a grave stone draped in quietus,
come the next dawn- I will be withered gone.
A girl brought me to this vast place of deep tears,
her sad weeping wet my soft red velvet petals;
she had plucked me from my shade in her little garden,
oh, I was so happy there growing by the fence.
I heard her say the word baby in her sadness,
then she placed me gently on this cold tomb to die;
will I bring the baby peace- will the baby know me,
soon we are alone, baby and me- hello I whisper.
My name is Rose, soon I will join you in the other world,
that night I watched the moon and stars above;
for the last time I knew the dawn and then I gasped,
all was still - I was in the hand of a child.
The child pressed me to his lips and kissed me beautiful,
my petals were no longer brittle cold but lovely;
and here we lay under the blue azure sky and cool earth,
a rose and a baby boy, joined in death by eternal love.
For years we listen to birds singing and wind sighing,
the rain gently falling and snowflakes drifting in winter;
birds in circled flight above and distant whispers of love,
and the tears of an old woman falling on our tomb.
____________________
August 23, 2016
Poetry/Personification/My Name is Rose
Copyright Protected, ID 16-1215-360-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Strand Select 8
sponsor, Brian Strand
Third Place
With prime promise your life’s tale had begun,
on plateau of time you’d blaze a furrow,
in dawn sky you’d rise like the golden sun,
like a meteor in night sky you’d glow.
Surging winds of change blow the gleam away,
suck you deep in whirlpool of agony.
Sea of tear drowns you in depth of dismay,
life crumbles in debris of irony.
Longing for cool embrace of quietus,
you rise again from the ruins of strife,
go beyond horizon of hiatus,
listen afresh to symphony of life.
You’ll lift your sated soul from deep abyss,
traverse changed time’s trail to eternal bliss.
November 21, 2020
Syllable count : 10 per line
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : Winds Of Change-Sonnet
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Confronting a cacophony of lies,
thoughts of love are silently laid to rest.
And buried in a tomb of quietus,
wrapped in a shroud of tears, at Hope's request.
Within a mute rhapsody of silence,
a mournful sigh escapes my lonely heart.
And an eternity of teardrops fall;
tethered to dreams drifting slowly apart.
At the bottom of a self-pity pit,
faint traces of trust slowly fade away.
But love is a never-ending story,
and happy endings play out every day.
I'll never stop searching for my soulmate;
knowing my soulmate is searching for me.
For I believe, soulmates are eternal,
and time will always find both lock and key.
A SPIRACLE LEAP
The spiral staircase made her high heels sing.
Round and round, Suzette tapped a snazzy dance.
Her smile sparkling, ears dangling with butterfly wings.
Curves on fire, tights and a bodysuit, tighten his trance.
Her sugar cane a la morse code, a hypnotic prop.
Brady’s heart making love, promising everything.
The wings of her bedpost become a silk backdrop.
Occasioned honeymoon, death claimed her wedding ring.
From here the City churches pierced the mist,
shrouding every living part inside his tortured chest,
clamoring to raise the dead, in rage, with tentacled fist.
Like a hammer to a crucifix’ nail, he pounds his breast.
The creak of her satin-lined coffin, pure and white,
speaks to his quietus soul — her shut eyes aware.
Suzette spoke in a spiracle leap, from the box, sans sight.
He closed it, and, now smiling, crossed the square.
Trust is an oak tree with shallow roots.
so very treacherous in windy weather.
I feel as though I'm glued to the floor;
pinned like a moth to an insect display.
I wish to leave this horrible evil place,
run far away into the cold, dark night.
In the flickering shadows of mankind
sympathetic words are a honeycomb,
sweet to the soul; healing to the heart.
Dreams rise and fall like lunar tides;
engrossing thoughts flood the brain;
as blood through old varicose veins.
Flotsam strewn about dying fields as
jetsam falls from darker, foggy skies.
Face rises to the sun, a sallow pallor.
Vultures perched, perversely hawing;
a flag is folded in presentation style;
roses tossed onto a shiny new casket.
The eve of one's quietus has arrived.
I
Incorruptible truths endure
when the beginning of the end has begun -
blessed is he who rejoices in his fate
and damned is the fool by his own will undone.
But do not despair my life revoked,
free is the soul whose shackles are broke.
II
I feared life more than dying,
more than God and more than mortal sin.
Alas now I wait for the bell to sound
and hearken a lone piper’s pibroch in the wind.
For one last defiant gesture I crave
before I am dressed a corpse in my grave.
III
Remember me a simple man
whose life and fate was long ago sealed -
freed from the howls and the battle
like some fallen soldier on some forgotten field.
But that long road to my death knell
leads to heaven through the gates of hell.
IV
Now the quietus I welcome
for I cannot lose that which I never found,
and as I in my pit unhonoured lay
all ego and puffery does perish underground.
Death is a dark and irresistible force
and I no immovable object on its course.
V
Will Christ be my redeemer
when all that survives is animus and fear?
In final revelation and affirmation
might the Kingdom of Heaven be waiting there?
Or will old incarnation flesh and bone
forever die a lost soul ‘neath a headstone?
VI
So drink! Drink and be merry
O’ friend and brother and sister when I pass,
but in my grave bury me face down
and cheeks up and let this world kiss my ar-se!
This I do with a contemptuous scoff -
now bend over…pucker up…and kiss off!
Written: October 1992
“We live, we die, and the wheels
on the bus go round and round”